


When You Meet A Stranger - Italy

by TeaHouseMoon



Series: When You Meet A Stranger [2]
Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017), Call Me By Your Name - All Media Types, Call Me by Your Name - André Aciman
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Boys In Love, Coda to When You Meet A Stranger, Crema, Elio and Oliver meet in real life, First Kiss, First Time, Italy, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2018-08-10
Packaged: 2019-06-09 23:15:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 15,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15278334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeaHouseMoon/pseuds/TeaHouseMoon
Summary: After meeting and falling in love online, Oliver and Elio finally meet in person when Oliver travels to Italy.**Completed.**I’ve never specified this before on any of my stories because it sounds pretentious to me, but DO NOT REPOST ANY OF MY WORK without my permission or without crediting me.Someone posted one of my fics on Wattpad under her own name and I am immensely annoyed about it. It’s rank. Don’t do it.





	1. The First Kiss

So in the end Oliver arrives, and Elio is really watching from the window, phone in his hand, because they have been texting for the whole of Oliver’s ride from the airport.

He introduces himself to Elio’s parents, who watch him, smiling. Oliver looks confident, but he has a light in his eyes that betrays his emotion. Elio doesn’t notice, he can’t, because all he can see is Oliver, here, for real, Oliver, I didn’t dream him.

Oliver who is even more handsome than Elio was expecting, with his blond hair, blue eyes, who is tall and muscular and just, exactly who Elio had in his mind, pieced together from grainy camera images and his voice on the phone.

If Elio hadn’t been so excited, and so agitated of meeting Oliver, of leading him upstairs to show him their rooms and where to drop his suitcase, he might have started overthinking. Oh god, will he like me? Does he like me, now that he’s seen me?? I’m too skinny and too clumsy and my hair is too curly.

But instead, they go upstairs and the first thing Oliver says is, My god, you’re...exactly as I expected you. Even more beautiful.

Elio looks down, kind of shocked, and thinks he probably blushed. If Oliver smiles now, then it means I blushed. Just like he said I would do.

And Oliver is smiling, looking at him.

Elio thinks they could hug, they’ve been speaking for weeks, so much has happened, a hug wouldn’t be out of place in their relationship right now.

But he doesn’t trust himself. If they hug, his body will become too warm, his brain will go into overdrive, his belly will burn with desire. He can’t let that happen, not yet.

“Are you tired?”, Elio asks.

“A little, maybe. What do you have in mind?”

Elio doesn’t have to say it. His eyes say everything, and Oliver’s respond.

Oliver is probably tired and jetlagged, but he smiles all the same and says, Let’s go.

They really grab the bikes, and race down the small streets and cobbly pathways and along the river until they get to the place, the berm, and Elio is in such a haste that he throws his bike to the ground and kicks off his shoes, which makes Oliver laugh.

“This is my place,” he says and puffs up his chest.

This is Oliver, he says to the berm, in his mind.

Oliver is still smiling. He steps over to Elio. Looks into his eyes. Oliver’s eyes are so blue from this short distance, bluer than Elio had seen from their video conversations. His skin is tanned. Elio feels a frisson of desire run through his whole body thinking of how their skin complement each other, ivory and tan, how beautiful they’ll look, pressed together.

“So. No courtship?” Oliver smiles wider, while his hand reaches out to stroke Elio’s chin, his thumb on Elio’s cheekbone and then on his bottom lip. Making Elio smile back.

“God. You really are old school.”

The moment they kiss, Elio will never forget, because his heart is hammering in his chest and he actually believes he might pass out. He holds on to Oliver though, he feels clumsy, he forgets what to do. He kisses Oliver’s lips and gentles the angle, moans softly in his throat as a sign for Oliver to take the lead. Which Oliver does. Enthusiastically, holding Elio’s face in his hands like he’s made of crystal, but also like he owns him.

Elio wants to be owned by Oliver.

He moans again in Oliver’s mouth. Christ, this is the best kiss ever. He loves how Oliver kisses and loves his lips, his taste. He clutches Oliver’s shirt like a man possessed, moans when Oliver slows the kiss to bite his plump lower lip. Oliver kisses him for a few more moments, then stops, still holds his face but leans their forehead together.

“Jesus,” he says, and he’s breathing hard.

“Oliver.”

“Fuck. You don’t know what you’re doing to me.”

If Oliver asked him to have sex there and then, just roll over and let him have him, Elio would says yes in an instant.

So he needs to kiss him again. He leads this time, Oliver follows, listens to him, and Elio pushes all of himself against Oliver, his chest and his tummy and his hands on Oliver’s face this time. He’s cheeky, and he rubs himself against Oliver when he feels he’s hard, until Oliver, gently but firm, holds him back by the hips.

“No no no...”

“Whaat.” Elio isn’t afraid to have a little strop.

“Let me romance you a little bit.”

Elio rolls his eyes, but feels warm everywhere.

“Don’t roll your eyes at me.”

“What do we do, then?”

He follows Oliver when he walks to a small clearing under a tree and sits down.

“Let’s sit for a while.”

They kiss again, several times. They make out for long minutes until Elio’s lips feel swollen with kisses. He wants to touch, wants to wants to wants to, but he’s forced to admit - it’s nice to just kiss, to just be close, and enjoy the thought of what’s to come.

The sound of the water trickling and the wind through the leaves, so familiar, now sounds so new.

 

 


	2. The First Time

Elio has a lot of bravado, and feels it in his bones that he wants this and he knows what he’s doing. 

He’s never spent the night with anybody and he wants to spend the night with Oliver. It’s been two days, now, and they’ve slept separately so far, and Elio is impatient.

He is, very much, done with waiting.

Oliver said, At least let me take you on a date.

Elio said, where?

We can have a date here. We can bike into town? We can have a drink. We can walk down that side street with the flowers you showed me yesterday and kiss some more.

Elio had smiled, but then there they were, kissing under a doorway, Elio’s fingers in Oliver’s hair while he hung from his neck, up on his tiptoes, eyes closed and eyebrows knit together in concentration.

That night in Oliver’s room, Elio’s heart is racing. His bravado has left him.

This is it.

“I’m nervous.”

“Me too.”

“Me, more than you.”

The door is locked and it’s only them in the room. In the dark. All of a sudden, Elio feels all of his seventeen years, which aren’t much when you put them together.

Oliver is smiling though, so that means it’ll be alright.

Elio hugs him. A child’s hug - but at least it’s something. Oliver leads them to the bed gently - Elio just realised, he has a bed, a real bed, for his very first time at sex. Most of his friends did it in a car, on a sofa; in other random (mostly unsuitable) places.

But Elio’s first time will be on a bed.

“What are you thinking?”

Elio blushes, because he really doesn’t want to tell Oliver what he’s thinking.

“Come on, Baby Deer?”

“It’s just stupid. I’ll tell you another time. Kiss me, now...”

Once they start kissing they can’t stop, (how many times have they kissed already in two days?), and once Oliver is breathing hard, chasing his lips, Elio is done for. Oliver desires him, and this still blows his mind.

“Off and off and off and off,” Oliver chants as he undresses him.

Elio is nervousnervousnervous, but the funny thing is, he’s so into this, he’s almost forgotten about his nerves.

When he lies back on the bed (smells like Oliver), Oliver kisses his chest, and laces their fingers together.

“Okay?”

“Yes.”

The truth is that, at least at first, it hurts. A lot. And the reason is - like Oliver reminds him some time later - that sex is something you do together. Remember to breathe. Remember to relax. It’s not just about what the other person does.

Elio just clutches Oliver’s hair in his hands and cries out, making Oliver remove the finger he had in him.

“No no I didn’t mean to make you stop.”

“You’re not okay, though.”

“No, I’m fine.”

The finger doesn’t go back where it’s supposed to, and instead Oliver buries his face into the side of Elio’s neck. Elio can only feel tiny kisses pressed against his skin. He wriggles.

“Please.”

He can feel Oliver’s lips. The tiny kisses become licks, tiny tiny bites.

“Patience.” Oliver’s voice says from Elio’s neck. “Need to get you hot and bothered again.”

Elio pushes Oliver’s shoulder and laughs.

“You’re so ridiculous.”

The second attempt is better. Elio closes his eyes and breathes, and soon Oliver has two fingers in him easily. Elio’s eyes are incensed enough then that he manages to persuade Oliver that he’s ready. The truth is: the wildling that Elio is will always get what he wants. Especially from Oliver.

There’s discomfort, all the same, and Elio cries out at the sensation. He’s angry with his body for treating this as an intrusion, when it’s not, this is Oliver, he belongs there, inside him. It’s another silly enough thought that he wouldn’t share with Oliver. Of course it’s not his body’s fault, but Elio wants to think that it is.

The feeling however when Oliver is completely inside him, well - that’s worth everything. Elio feels full, his belly is fully, his mind is full, his chest is full.

He clutches Oliver’s hair at the nape with all five fingers of a hand, as if he’s deep down wanting Oliver to feel the same deep, pinching ache he feels in his lower body. He looks Oliver in the eyes with fire in his own, and when they kiss, he feels like everything makes sense, absolutely everything. He was born for this moment and his body was made for this, he feels grown up, he feels whole.

He knows his mind is in to overdrive and hypersensitive, and he doesn’t care.

Oliver starts moving and Elio tries to make it as easy as possible for him. He responds moan for moan, breath for breath in Oliver’s mouth, until Oliver pulls himself up on his hands and carries on that way, and then Elio is just looking at him from below, at his closed eyes, his open mouth, his damp hair and his tense biceps. It’s Elio’s first time and he wants to remember everything.

Once Oliver comes, he pulls out, and oh god, oh fuck, he goes down on Elio and all it takes is a couple of moments, and Elio comes too. It reminds him of their video chats.

What now? He’ll fall asleep?

He does feel exhausted, but content, and he can’t wait to sleep in Oliver’s arms, in his same bed.

“Swear you won’t get up before me and leave.”

“But didn’t you say Mafalda is nosey?”

“Huh? Yeah. We’ll lock the door.”

Oliver just kind of nods because it’s as good a plan as any. Elio, head on the pillow now, facing him, smiles.

He smiles so wide that his eyes crinkle at the corners, and he definitely sees Oliver respond to that with his own, proud grin.

Elio feels proud. He feels new. He feels like a different person. He feels like tomorrow, none of his friends will recognise him, he’s changed so much.

He has Oliver.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked this one too! :) 
> 
> Ps the ‘side street with the flowers’ really exists, it’s the small street in Crema that follows along past the doorway Elio and Oliver stop by in the film when Oliver says ‘I would kiss you if I could.’ <3


	3. The First Confession

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well I was very excited for you to read about their first time, but it seems only a couple of you were as excited as me! Haha... 
> 
> Oh well. Perhaps you prefer some fluff instead? Read on...

On their sixth night together, Elio wakes up, and Oliver’s side of the bed is empty. Elio is sleepy and confused and thinks perhaps he slept in, but he looks at the clock, and it’s only four in the morning.

He runs his hand over the cold sheet on Oliver’s side and thinks, should he go after him? But he must be really tired, because sleep takes him once again before he can worry any more.

The night after, it happens again. This time, Elio tries really hard to blink the sleep away because he wants to go and find Oliver, but Oliver appears at the door and sits with him, stroking his hair and telling him to go back to sleep, that everything’s okay.

 

 

 

 

 

“Where do you go? At night?”

“Huh?”

Elio frowns over his eggs and caffelatte as they have breakfast, just the two of them, the next morning.

“I wake up and you’re not in bed. Where do you go?”

“Nowhere.”

“Well clearly you must be going somewhere since you’re not there?? Unless you’re like, invisible or something.”

Elio is irritated. Oliver’s tiny smile at his remark makes him even more so.

“Tell me?”

“I’m being serious. I don’t go anywhere. Where would I go?”

Elio purses his lips, and it looks like a pout.

“Oliver.”

“I just... can’t sleep.”

That really doesn’t help. Elio’s eyes cloud over a little bit more.

“What’s going on?”, he asks, really tentatively now. Something is wrong somethingiswrong somethingiswrong he knew it, of course it was going to happen. Oliver is probably tired of him Oliver wants to see other people? Oliver probably already does and that’s where he goes at night. Oliver Oliver Oliver...

“I’m just thinking. Of what to tell your parents.”

Elio’s thoughts freeze immediately in the chaos they created in his mind. What?

“What do you mean?”

“I mean...” Oliver looks away for a moment. When he looks back at Elio, his eyes are tender. “I mean, I see them every day. I sleep with you every night. Your parents are lovely. I feel like I’m deceiving them.”

Elio still doesn’t understand.

“How... how, though?”

“By not being honest. By pretending I’m just... your friend?”

Elio doesn’t know how or why, but he feels his face burn up. He’s blushing again, and he looks down, wills himself to get a grip.

“Well what do you want to do?”, he finds the voice to ask.

“Would they be...unhappy, if they knew you’re with me?”

“You know my parents are not like that. They don’t mind.”

“Okay.”

“In fact I’m pretty sure they know already.”

“Good.” A moment later. “Would you?”

“Would I...”

“Would you be unhappy. If they knew.”

“You’re crazy.” Elio shakes his head, narrows his eyes, and pulls both skinny legs up on the chair, hugging them to his chest. “You’re really weird,” he tells Oliver, smiling, but trying to cover it up.

“But you still like me, don’t you?” Oliver smiles as well. He gets up (he’s so tall...his hair is so blond. His eyes so blue. Elio wishes Oliver wasn’t wearing his t-shirt yes that would be so good) and takes a step towards Elio, then bends down and kisses him on the mouth. Right there. Out in the open, where anyone can see.

Elio smiles a little into Oliver’s mouth, thinks of Mafalda’s face if she saw them now (oh god!! Elio! You’re too young for these things, _Sciura_ , _a ga va ben mia_!!) and kisses back with even more enthusiasm.

He has a boyfriend. Does he have a boyfriend? He does. Oh god, he should make sure.

“Are you my boyfriend, then?” He asks Oliver, and immediately he feels childish. Why do I open my mouth why do I open my mouth whydoIopenmy...

“Are you mine?”

Oliver’s voice is serious and deep. Just like his eyes, as they stare at Elio now, look at Elio’s eyes, and then his lips and back to his eyes. Oliver is standing back up now but the index finger of his right hand is stroking Elio’s mouth very slowly.

Elio is hypnotised.

“Yes.” He can only say.

“Good.”

Oliver’s hand disappears as quickly as it materialised against Elio’s skin. Oliver smiles at him, then with one last look, he takes off his shirt, and walks away towards the garden fountain he goes swimming in every morning. He jumps in.

Elio can only smirk, defeated. Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuck. He pulls his legs up against his chest even more, bites his lower lip, and wills his erection to go away, at least for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave me a comment if you like this and if you’d like to read more xx


	4. The first jealousy

**From: Baby Deer**

Saw your note ?? Where did you go with my dad

 

 

**From: Oliver <3**

Good morning sleeping beauty!

 

**From: Oliver <3**

We went to Lago de Garda. Is that the spelling? It was incredible. The found a real authentic Hellenistic statue. Pulled it out of the water right in front of us!!!

 

 **From: Baby Deer**

Lago di Garda :) oh wow

 

**From: Oliver <3**

It was incredible. So grateful that your dad wanted me to go with him.

 

 **From: Baby Deer**

Glad it was interesting. Next time I want to come too

 

**From: Oliver <3**

Of course. Sorry, I didn’t want to wake you up. You looked so peaceful

 

**From: Baby Deer**

I was tired!!!! Someone keeping me busy !!!!

 

**From: Oliver <3**

Aw, too much work? Baby, come on, you have the stamina ;)

 

 **From: Baby Deer**

Yes I do but then I get tired!! When do you get back?

 

**From: Oliver <3**

In a couple of hours I think. What about you? What are you doing?

 

**From: Baby Deer**

I’m at the pool with the others. I was bored on my own at home

 

**From: Oliver <3**

Who’s there?

 

**From: Baby Deer**

Like, 12 people you don’t know and Marzia

 

**From: Oliver <3**

Give her my regards. Tell her not to come too close

 

**From: Baby Deer**

Lol stop

 

**From: Oliver <3**

Are you kidding me? You in those little shorts? Have you seen yourself?

 

 **From: Baby Deer**

Stooop!! She’s not looking at me

 

**From: Oliver <3**

Your skin is turning golden now with all that sun. And your cheeks are nice and colored... you’re so beautiful

 

 **From: Baby Deer**

Wow, to what do I owe all this praise this morning

 

**From: Oliver <3**

I’m being serious. I bet everyone’s looking at you right now.

 

**From: Baby Deer**

Mmm... are you jealous? ;)))

 

**From: Oliver <3**

Fuck YES

 

**From: Baby Deer**

Uhhhhhhh. Well maybe we should let them know that I’m taken... so nobody misunderstands ;)

 

**From: Oliver <3**

With pleasure.

 

**From: Baby Deer**

Maybe at the disco night on Friday....if you go with me

 

**From: Oliver <3**

I hate dancing but of course I will go with you.

 

 **From: Baby Deer**

Yay! You’ll have fun

 

**From: Oliver <3**

Oh yes I will.

 

**From: Baby Deer**

:ppp you’re so bad

 

**From: Oliver <3**

>>:<<<

 


	5. The First Kiss In Public

Oliver is pleasingly surprised to admit that it feels liberating to be kissing Elio like this, out in the open, here in front of his friends.

The music is quite bad and the strobe lights remind him of school dances, but everything fades the moment he’s tasting that boy’s mouth.

He cradles Elio’s jaw with one hand - because Elio is a wild thing and Oliver likes to think he can tame him. Elio’s arm goes around his neck and he hangs onto Oliver’s bigger frame like he wants this kiss to last forever.

Oliver has ceased to be a teenager for a while now, but he doesn’t mind kissing like one, for minutes and minutes, right here and right then in the arms of his young lover.

 

 

“Chiara was very upset,” Elio, back from getting their drinks, says to him not even an hour later. He hands Oliver his gin and tonic.

“Chiara?”

Elio takes a sip and scrunches up his face - he has been tipsy for a while.

“Yeah! Marzia’s friend. Marzia told me. She likes you.”

“Marzia?”

“No! Chiara!!” Elio rolls his eyes. “Chiara likes you and she saw us kiss and she got upset and this is why she left. And she told Marzia that she can’t believe it and that I’m too young for you and she’s twenty and she would be much better.”

Oliver needs a moment to take it all in. Elio gives it to him, nonchalantly going back to sucking his drink from his straw, as if he hasn’t just dropped quite the bombshell.

“Why did Marzia tell you?”

“I don’t know. Because.”

Oliver inhales for a moment.

“Does Marzia think you’re too young?”

Elio’s eyes rise to Oliver’s from where they were looking intently at the ice floating in his drink.

“No, Oliver, what the fuck? Why are you asking?”

Oliver stares at Elio and his red lips. Elio is leaning against the wall they’re kind of hiding behind, and his eyes are almost black.

“It’s fine, forget I said that. Let’s just-“

“No, no, why did you ask?” Elio is pushing the palm of his hand against Oliver’s chest, his face serious. “Why do you care what M-“

Oliver sighs.

“Does everybody think that you’re too young?”

Well. Oliver is walking right into a fight, and he absolutely knows it.

“Yes. Everybody thinks I’m too young. Just like always. I’m always too young for everything.”

Elio says this in a low voice. Not moving from where he is, standing in front of Oliver, back to the wall. His eyes are unreadable.

“Elio, I’m not... that’s not what I mean. You know that. I’m just worried.”

“So, what? I guess you can be my new babysitter? Since I’m so young and you’re so worried.”

“Elio.”

Elio looks away. His face is full of annoyance.

“Look, Elio,” Oliver avoids terms of endearments, they just irritate Elio when he’s not in the mood. “I’m just... I don’t know what to say here. Can you blame me for- for being apprehensive? I just want what’s best-“

“Do you know what, it’s fine.” Elio’s voice interrupts him, and he pushes away from the wall. “I’m gonna go, do you mind? Sorry. I’ll see you back at the house.”

With that, he turns his back, and leaves before Oliver can do anything to stop him.

   

 

 

Once the anger has evaporated and he’s had some time to think, Oliver sends a text.

 

 

**From: Oliver <3**

I did it again, didn’t I?

 

 

**From: Baby Deer**

Yes.

 

 

**From: Oliver <3**

Where are you?

Let me tell you in person that I’m sorry for ruining the night?

 

**From: Oliver <3**

Please, Elio

 

 

**From: Baby Deer**

No I don’t know Oliver. Sorry I’m just in a bad mood

 

 

**From: Oliver <3**

I know. I know. Ok, well. I’ll wait for you in my room. Yeah?

 

 

 **From: Baby Deer**

Yeah.

 

 

 

It’s hours later, and Elio crawls on top of the bed, towards Oliver whose body is half covered with a thin sheet. He’s only in his boxers under that and Elio burrows close, pushing his face into Oliver’s neck, flattening himself against the length of Oliver’s body.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles, mouth pushed against Oliver’s skin.

Oliver’s hands go into his curls, and Oliver kisses his forehead, the top of his head, gentle and grateful.

“No, I’m sorry. We didn’t go to that awful dance to... have a fight.”

Elio chuckles softly, but then he grows serious again. He lifts himself up, sits on the bed with his legs pulled up. 

“Oliver, I... I just wanna know. Do you actually think that, that I... that I’m not old enough. That I’m too young, for... for you?” 

His eyes are large and transparent in the half darkness of the room. Oliver sees a lot of innocence, right there.

And then, Elio’s cheeks are streaked with tears. 

“I don’t, I don’t want you to leave me.” He sobs quietly. “I don’t want you to, for me to be, too much of a child, and, and... if I’m not enough, if I’m...”

Oliver doesn’t let him finish.

“Elio, Elio. No. Shhh. Hey, stop,” he pleads, hands holding Elio’s face carefully and making him look at Oliver. “Stop. This is not true! None of this is true. I am sorry, I’m so sorry that I made you feel this way. Baby, I’m sorry. You’re so precious to me.”

Tears are still leaving Elio’s beautiful green eyes, now rimmed red, and Oliver wipes them away gently with his thumbs.

“I’m sorry. You are more than I could have even thought, when I first...when I met you, when I was miles and miles away and now that I’m here, you’re just... you’re perfect. You’re perfect.”

Elio’s lips stretch in the tiniest of smiles for a moment. Oliver can’t help it. Elio’s lips are red, full, so perfectly shaped. Oliver kisses them.

“I love you, Elio.” It leaves his mouth, his throat. And Oliver finds that he isn’t scared one bit. “I love you.” 

“I love you too.” Elio says back. 

The kiss afterwards is long and languid. Elio’s body is shaken very gently by hiccups, every now and then, and Oliver wraps his body in his arms, and undresses him while they kiss.

He makes love to Elio, and he thinks he’s never seen this boy as soft and docile as he is now.

They say it again to each other, I love you, I love you. Oliver tells Elio as Elio comes, and as Oliver feels the contractions in Elio’s body that bring him inexorably over the edge. If he could, he would live forever in that place, in the warmth and tightness of Elio’s thighs.

 

 

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smut and feelings. And a little sadness.

One evening after dinner, Elio is sitting outside with Marzia. The cool breeze of the night feels good on his skin.

“So you’re with Oliver?” Marzia cocks her head, her mouth stretches into a smile. “He’s your boyfriend?”

“Yeah,” Elio confirms and looks ahead in front of him, eyebrows knitted in fake nonchalance.

“Cool.” She thinks for a moment. Then she smiles, wider, but somehow shy. “Did you do it?”

Elio looks at her, and bursts into a half-shocked chuckle. “What?”

“You know...did you do it? Did you have sex?”

Elio eyes Marzia, a look of amusement still on his face but he’s now also going a little red. Marzia is his best friend, they talk about these things. But now that it’s real, it’s really happened, he feels a little shy.

“Mind your own business,” he says jokingly.

Marzia’s eyebrows shoot up; Elio sighs.

“Yes, we did it. Why do you wanna know?”

“I don’t know,” Marzia is a little red now too. “I haven’t yet. How is it?”

“I mean, Marzia. I don’t know. It depends what you do.” He steals a glance at Marzia, who is watching him as if he could reveal a long lost secret. “Look don’t worry. Just - just do it with a good person. You know?”

Marzia nods, and looks ahead, a smaller, tender smile now on her face instead.

“I’m happy for you and Oliver. Is he staying for the whole summer?”

“No,” Elio says, and it hurts. “No, he’s... he’s only here for 2 weeks.”

And they’re nearly over, his traitorous mind helpfully reminds him.

“Oh,” Marzia says, and clearly she wasn’t expecting it. She glances over at him, eyebrows knitted together now in apprehension.

“Yeah.” Elio nods, and looks ahead, at the trees and the leaves gently blown by the summer breeze.

 

 

 

 

 

When Elio sneaks into Oliver’s room a couple of hours later, his lover is lying on top of the bed sheets, still dressed but for his shirt off, reading.

Elio crawls over to him on the bed and kisses him, suddenly needy, perhaps needier than usual.

Oliver obliges him, but after long minutes of kissing, Elio leaves his lips, takes off his t-shirt, and unbuttons Oliver’s shorts, looking for his treasure beneath the fabric.

He starts kissing Oliver’s sex and Oliver wants to talk, “Elio?” he calls, softly, but his large hand is already in Elio’s hair, encouraging and Elio shakes his head, he doesn’t want to talk. Not tonight.

He takes Oliver into his mouth, starts sucking and licking just like Oliver taught him to do. Oliver’s hand in his curls is just a gentle weight, just a presence, but when Elio takes a breath and pushes down, Oliver deep in his throat, Oliver’s hand holds him there, for a long moment. Elio’s blood boils with arousal.

“Elio.” Oliver tries again. “No.” Elio murmurs, looking up just for a moment, eyes red and watery. He renews his efforts, pushing down again and staying there for longer, Oliver heavy and huge on his tongue and in his throat.

That’s not all he wants for that night and so he sucks one last time, then, quickly, he loses his own shorts and straddles Oliver - god, he knows Oliver loves this. It’s maybe his favourite position.

Oliver looks at his face, so serious, and Elio knows that he’s watching for signs of discomfort on his face. So Elio slicks him up, then angles their bodies, then sits down on him, taking him inside himself as slow as he can so that Oliver doesn’t stop him.

Oliver arches back with the pleasure of it. Good, Elio thinks. He’s too far gone to stop me.

The sex itself is quick enough, although Elio does take him in so slow and deep a couple of times, and they stop right there, intertwined, to kiss for long moments.

But in the end Elio holds onto Oliver’s shoulders and gives it to him, the friction that he needs, the warmth and tightness of his body all around Oliver. He goads his older lover, blood burning now inside his veins, jaw set, when Oliver starts thrusting up into him. I can take it, I want it, fuck me Oliver.

“Fuck me,” Elio growls on Oliver’s mouth. Oliver growls back, “Yeah, yeah.”

His hips have started to stutter a little bit, Elio thinks, irritated with himself, and he concentrates and tries to find a new rhythm. His abdomen hurts, deliciously so, every thrust from Oliver’s larger body a new reminder of what they’re doing. Elio wants it to hurt. He wants to walk around tomorrow with this ache, to feel empty and full, to remember what they did every time he sits down.

In the end, Oliver changes their position. Puts Elio under him - he knows he’s exhausted. He chases his orgasm inside Elio’s body and finds it, comes inside him, and then strokes him until Elio comes, too. He pulls out really, really slowly, and Elio sighs because he’s full of Oliver, now.

“You feel really warm,” Oliver murmurs to him, after he’s cleaned him up, spooning Elio from behind.

“I don’t want you to go.” Elio sobs. Eyes closed; and with nothing else that matters.

Oliver turns his face around and nudges his arm so Elio’s half lying on his side and turned back towards him, so they can kiss. Elio is sweaty and so, so tired.

His abdomen aches.

“I love you,” Oliver tells him, speaking against his cheek.

God, Elio loves him too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now now don’t be shy... leave me a comment! :)


	7. This is the end. Part 1

Elio starts acting really weird.

He’s quieter than usual. He doesn’t play anymore. His piano and his guitar go neglected. It’s harder to make him smile.

After a whole day and morning of this, Oliver finds him in his room, their room, shirtless, looking outside the window, eyebrows pulled into a frown.

Oliver walks up behind him, and takes him into his arms, wrapping his own, musclier ones around the boy’s stomach and pulling him back against himself. Elio goes with it, but his body is more rigid than Oliver would like.

“Hey Kiddo. You okay?” Oliver murmurs to him, kisses the side of his neck.

“Yeah.” Elio still looks ahead, to the green and blue outside the window.

Oliver kisses his neck again, his shoulder. He runs his fingers over Elio’s pec and nipple, his other hand strokes slowly down to his shorts.

“Oliver.”

It’s the first time that Elio protests when Oliver initiates intimacy, so Oliver doesn’t get it at first. His hand is oblivious, and tries to unbutton Elio’s shorts.

Elio’s hands close around his wrist.

“No.”

Oliver has to clear his throat to recover from the surprise.

“Elio?”

“I don’t want to, Oliver.”

Elio steps out of Oliver’s embrace, and turns around to face him. Oliver has to blink.

“That’s fine, I don’t... just tell me what’s wrong?”

Elio rolls his eyes, that bratty habit of his. He looks away. Oliver would chastise him, but Elio’s eyes are red rimmed, and so he keeps quiet and waits. Worried.

“What’s wrong is, Oliver...” Elio struggles. “Look. Why don’t you just break up with me now?”

“What?”

“You’re leaving. The day after tomorrow. So, like, just break up with me now? Because, because you’ll go back and, and then what? You’ll just stop talking to me or talk to me less and less and then I just have to, to get the message, don’t I? So just, just do it now.”

Elio has spoken fast, and now his eyes look straight into Oliver’s, and they’re red and wet and he’s not afraid to show it. There’s stoicism in his stance as if he’s already figured out that he has to take the consequences of this and move on with his life.

Oliver, however, is shocked.

“What are you talking about?”

He can’t keep the confusion out of his expression, wouldn’t do it even if he could.

“You don’t have to lie. Or, or reassure me, or something.” Elio’s voice is less sure now and his hands are trembling. “Don’t worry, I’ll still have sex with you before you leave if you want, even if you break up with me.”

Oliver takes a step back. He feels like he’s been slapped.

What in the actual hell. What in the hell is going on.

“What the fuck, Elio.” The expletive makes Elio blink. “What the fuck? I don’t even understand what the hell are you talking about?”

He keeps staring into Elio’s red eyes. Oliver’s eyes are steely, now. His body hums with anger. He has to set his jaw, tell himself to breathe for a second, so that he’s still able to keep his voice level.

“I guess you’ve got everything figured out, don’t you? After all this, after all... after everything that’s happened. I guess you know me really well?”

Elio stays quiet. So Oliver continues.

“I’m glad you have such a clear fucking idea of me that you’ve already decided that I’m going to leave you. Great, this is great, and real flattering for me as well.”

“Well what were you gonna do??” Elio awakes from his strange trance. “Don’t blame me. You never, you never talked of the future, of what we’re gonna do when, when... of what’s gonna happen when you leave!”

“And so that makes it okay for you to assume?” Oliver’s voice is louder now. It makes Elio blink his eyes again, and they’re now full of tears.

Oliver forces himself to ignore it. He’s furious.

“I thought we were better than this, I thought you knew me better. Just because I didn’t talk about it it doesn’t mean I don’t have any plans, it doesn’t mean I didn’t think about it!” He swallows, tells himself he needs to calm down. “You could have sure as fuck asked me, Elio.”

“Oh and you would have told me??”

Elio’s voice is loud enough now that Oliver knows his mother and father can definitely hear them in the quiet of the house. He hopes they’re still outside, oblivious to all of this.

“I know how these things work,” Elio concludes.

Oliver almost wants to laugh at this last sentence. He wants to, the bitterness of everything seeping through beyond the wall of hurt and anger that he’s feeling. But the truth is, he’s tired. This discussion has used up all his energy.

“I think you don’t know anything.”

Oliver knows this is a low blow. He watches Elio blink again, as if he’s been shouted at, even though Oliver hasn’t even raised his voice this time. He sees the tears draw lines down Elio’s skin, down his cheeks, reddened with the heat and the worry.

He sees his chest, shaken by a sob.

Oliver forces himself to ignore all of it, again.

“I. I’m going to go for a walk. Please tell Mafalda I won’t be in for dinner.”

Oliver’s voice is flat. He sets his jaw again, turns around, and leaves. He knows Elio is crying, but he can’t see past the hurt that’s burning his chest right now.

Maybe he’s overreacting, surely he is. Surely. But he just can’t deal with this. Not right now. Not ever.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aghhhh!!!


	8. This is the end Part 2

“Elio.”

His father is calling him, and he’s sure it’s for dinner, or a drink outside in the garden. Elio hasn’t shown his face at all tonight because he knew Oliver wasn’t going to be there.

Now, sat at the table in the living room, he lifts up his head, and hums quietly to let his father know he’s listening. He was trying to transcribe a piece of music, but in near dark, so he wasn’t really succeeding.

“Elio. What are you doing here on your own?” Sammy’s voice is soft but questioning. Elio has been so active and happy lately, this is quite a jarring difference.

“Nothing.”

Elio had thought of answering, ‘I wanted to transcribe some music to distract myself but turns out I can’t see very well in the dark ‘, but chooses not to explain. He doesn’t have the energy, and it doesn’t even make sense anyway.

His father narrows his eyes to look at him better. Elio, instantly, knows Sammy’s also swallowing back his words. He was going to ask why Oliver isn’t with him, but he doesn’t.

He sighs instead.

“Elli, I had a very interesting conversation with Oliver today.”

Elio’s ears perk up, but he still pretends to be unaffected.

“Our intern for this year. I thought Oliver would be perfect. So I asked him, if maybe he wanted to do it, and postpone his departure for a bit. He seems to like it here.”

“What?” Elio lifts his head, doesn’t even give himself time to feel self conscious at the speed with which he’s decided he’s paying attention now. “When?”

His father looks confused.

“When did you ask him?”

“Two days ago. He said he’d be happy to, that he’d been looking for a way to extend his stay a little longer. He needed to check with his tutor. I think it might just work out.”

Elio looks at Sammy, looks at his father and doesn’t know whether to believe him because it seems so absurd. He blinks, and is thankful for the near darkness now because it hides how his eyes have turned red again. He can tell because they’re burning.

It’s more anger than sadness though. It’s more shame, with himself, because he feels like an idiot.

“Sorry, I... I think I’m gonna go to bed.” He quietly announces instead. “I’m tired.”

He slips out through the door, tries to walk upstairs as quickly and as quietly as he can, but he can still feel his father’s eyes follow him, concerned.

 

 

 

Oliver isn’t back yet, and Elio decides he needs to see him. He doesn’t know what he’s going to say. Hell, maybe he won’t even say anything. He just needs to see him.

What his father said doesn’t mean Oliver isn’t leaving. Who knows, maybe his tutor changed his mind, or maybe Oliver only said yes to Sammy because he didn’t want to offend him. It doesn’t mean he isn’t leaving.

Elio needs to see him, and so he sits on Oliver’s bed, eyes hard, teeth biting into his lower lip. He looks at his phone but stops himself from even thinking of sending a text.

Eventually, his eyes grow tired. It’s late. Past midnight, and Elio’s been worrying and thinking all day, after all.

He wakes up a little later and he feels like he’s slept for hours. He feels warmer. He forces himself to open his eyes when he remembers where he is, and why he is there.

“Elio. Shhh. Go back to sleep.”

As much as he’s still semi unconsciousand confused, Elio would recognise that voice anywhere, of course.

“Oliver.”

“Shhh.”

Oliver’s mouth is in his hair, his large hand is on Elio’s stomach, guiding him back down on the bed, gentle like with a startled animal.

“Oliver.” Elio grips Oliver’s shoulder with a hand, and rubs his head, his curls, gently against Oliver’s mouth. His eyes are closed. “Please don’t leave me.”

“I’m not gonna leave you.”

“You could,” Elio whispers against Oliver’s collarbone. “You should, after what I did. After what I said today.”

Oliver pulls back, so that he can see Elio’s face. Elio’s eyes feel like they’re burning now, and when have they not, in the past twelve hours. He forces himself to hold Oliver’s gaze.

“We can talk tomorrow,” Oliver says.

“My dad, my dad told me. What you’ve talked about.” Elio’s hand is on Oliver’s face, his palm against his cheek. He wants Oliver to listen. “I’m dumb, I’m an idiot Oliver. I shouldn’t have just, assumed, I, I... I’m really sorry, please don’t leave me.”

His face burns with the feeling that he’s like a damn broken record. Oliver must be so bored of him by now.

Oliver doesn’t speak for a long moment, a long moment where Elio hiccups quietly, very quietly, and waits. He wants to say more, but he doesn’t trust himself.

And then Oliver speaks.

“Can I kiss you?”

Elio doesn’t even know how he manages to answer, but he does so in a breath.

“Yes, please.”

Oliver kisses him, gently at first. Just pecks on his lips, and Elio lets him, just waiting. Then Oliver’s tongue licks at Elio’s mouth; then mouths open, and they kiss properly, openly, like they’ve quickly gotten used to. Elio feels it though - this is a loving kiss, not foreplay to sex, not a means to an end, it’s a kiss Elio doesn’t think he deserves.

He is gently pushed back down on the bed after that. Oliver holds his right wrist down on the pillow, with a thumb he strokes the delicate skin, the vein that’s visible under it.

“I fall more and more in love with you every day,” Oliver says.

Kiss on the mouth. Kiss on his cheek.

“I don’t know what I did. For you to want me. This much.”

Kiss on his mouth.

“I’m in love with your lips. I could spend all my time kissing them.”

Another kiss.

“And I don’t want to see you cry again.”

There’s an apology there, and Elio opens his eyes with effort, because he was enjoying Oliver’s caressing voice and touches so much he was almost in a trance. He looks up at Oliver, their eyes dark despite their real green and blue. He only whispers.

“You’re not leaving, then?”

Oliver kisses his collarbone. His chest.

“No, Baby Deer. I’ll stay a little longer. I’m very grateful to your dad for asking me - I was trying to find a way, but this is just perfect.”

Elio doesn’t care how long that little longer is, his face splits into a grin as soon as he hears the words.

I don’t care how much I have with you, I don’t care, I will make it last forever.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. As I mentioned on Twitter, real life has been kicking my bum this week. Problems with a co worker, and my stupid mind telling me I’m rubbish at what I do... so, yeah. 
> 
> Anyway. I hope you like this chapter. I have a couple more planned so far, but let me know your thoughts.   
> I’m on twitter on @TeahousemoonAo3 
> 
> Xx


	9. Chapter 9

Elio sighs, and pulls his knees up tighter against himself as he lies on his bed. He shivers a little.

His mother Annella strokes his sweaty curls back from his forehead, gently.

“Mon cheri. Are you cold?”

Elio shakes his head no, and keeps his eyes closed.

“Why do I have to have the flu in July?” He grumbles irritably. His face feels hot but he’s shivering; his body is warm but he needs a blanket for his bed. His head is pounding even though he’s drank painkillers and vitamin c for the past few hours.

“You’ll be okay soon.” Annella’s hand keeps stroking him lovingly.

Elio almost drifts off, until he hears the door creak, and then his mother’s voice.

“Piccino, c’è Oliver,” she tells him in Italian.

Oliver is indeed standing by the door, looking a little shy perhaps, but mostly worried. The expression on his face is tender, and suddenly Elio really wants to be comforted by him and have him fuss over him.

“Hey,” Oliver whispers. “Just wanted to check if I can help with anything? Can I get anything from the kitchen?”

“Maybe some more water. But I’ll go, don’t worry.” Annella says quickly, and with one more caress to her son’s hair she stands up and leaves them alone.

“Do you have a magic potion to get rid of this thing? I could do with that.”

Elio’s grumbly voice makes Oliver smile.

“It’s the flu. It happens.”

“In July?” Elio blinks his eyes open, scrunches up his face and tries to bury it in the pillow. His bones hurt. “Who gets the flu in July, come on.”

Oliver sits on the edge of the bed next to him. He also puts his hand on Elio’s head, but his caress is slower, and his thumb strokes the boy’s cheekbone.

“But look at the positives. You’re being looked after, and you’re getting cuddles and attention. It’s not all bad.”

Elio opens one eye and tries his best to glare. It makes Oliver chuckle again.

“What can I do?”

“Mm. Lie with me?”

Oliver’s fingers check his forehead.

“I thought you were too warm.”

“I want you to lie with me,” Elio insists, petulant.

“Fine. As soon as your mom’s gone.”

“Just close the door. She’ll know what’s going on.”

Oliver laughs, but gets up and closes the door nonetheless.

“Nothing is going on. You need to rest up and get better.”

Nonetheless, he lies down next to Elio, pulls him against his chest.

“I heard,” Elio says quietly, sleepy already, rubbing at his eyes like a child. “I heard that sex cures the flu.”

Oliver chuckles, and kisses the boy’s nape.

“Oh, really? I wonder what doctor suggested that.” He strokes the tufts of a Elio’s curls away from his nape and kisses him again. “Doctor Horny?”

“Ew, Oliver, that sounds so creepy.” Elio protests, and it’s all playful, but Oliver’s presence behind him is doing things to him as usual. No matter how tired, or how poorly he feels or how much his head is hurting. “But you are in the right position right now to, to- you could just pull down my shorts and, just put it in me.”

“I thought you were all sick and snotty.”

“Ugh,” Elio protests, weakly kicks back at Oliver on the bed. “I was never snotty.”

Oliver kisses his hair again.

“Okay.”

“So? Are we gonna do the sex or...”

Elio is clearly already more than half asleep, the medicines making him drowsy.

“No, you need to rest. Sorry, Kiddo.”

By the time Oliver’s said this, Elio is asleep. Slack and soft in his arms, beautiful lips slightly open as he breathes. Hips pushed back against Oliver’s groin, and Oliver hides his face in Elio’s raven curls, and naps too, while they wait for the flu to run its course.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A quick sort of hurt/confort to try and cheer myself up. I hope you like it!


	10. If I could

“You’re drunk,” Elio says looking at Oliver.

“No I’m not!”

Elio insists.“You are. You totally are.”

Oliver’s hands hold Elio’s hips tighter, and he kisses him again, pushes him harder against the wall of Marzia’s living room.

They are at a party. There’s people around. They’re huddled in a corner of the room, and making out like there’s no tomorrow.

Oliver’s mouth tastes of vodka and some other liquor and frankly, Elio is obsessed with it.

“I love you,” Oliver says by way of an answer. Elio smiles, wide so wide, and accepts another kiss, one that deepens instantly and forces him to open his mouth properly, let Oliver’s tongue explore wherever it wants to go. Oliver breathes into his mouth and Elio rewards him with moans.

“So many of my friends are here,” Elio breathes, almost struggling.

“Good. Let them see you’re mine,” Oliver growls back. His hand sneaks behind Elio, between him and the wall, and pushes on his rump so that he’s flushed against Oliver.

“Fuck,” Elio just murmurs.

“I can’t even remember where we are,” Oliver confesses. “But I don’t care.”

Elio laughs. “Good thing I’m with you, then so at least you won’t get lost trying to go home.”

Oliver kisses him again, then stops, gently slots his forehead against Elio’s. A long moment goes by.

“Elio.”

“Hmm?”

“I would marry you if I could.”

Elio thinks he heard him wrong. The music is loud and he’s had quite a few drinks too.

“S-Sorry?”

Oliver smiles, his eyes full of tenderness as he looks down at him.

“If I could marry you, I would.”

Elio heard right the first time, then. His heart hammers in his chest, and he’s sure his eyes are as wide as they’ve ever been. He feels laughter bubble in his throat.

“You’re so drunk.”

“No, I’m serious, kid. I would. I’m really in love with you.”

Elio’s head is screaming, you’re crazy and so is Oliver, but he can’t help but smile, the biggest smile he has in him right now. His head swims a little but he’s enjoying the feeling. He feels even crazier when he answers.

“You can. Marry me. You know?”, he says, and his voice is smooth as honey. He doesn’t know where he finds his cool; his body seems to be disintegrating under the force of his beating heart.

“Then we’ll do it,” Oliver nods, smiles, reaches down to kiss Elio on the mouth, first on the corner, then on the lips.Elio kisses back with everything that he has, with a deep, demanding sigh and with his whole body pressed up against Oliver. He wonders if Marzia will be okay with them disappearing into a room for a while. His chest is so full, he knows they’re being crazy, he knows Oliver is drunk, but he just wants to enjoy this, this moment right now. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter for your Saturday... hope you don’t mind! :) x


	11. Do you remember what you said

The rays of the sun are already licking gently at their skin through the window when Elio wakes.

It’s probably late.

Oliver is still asleep next to him. His nose nuzzling the side of Elio’s neck.

Elio blinks, scrunches up his nose as he gets his bearing and tests his surroundings; the room smells warm, of them. The white sheet is pulled down to his thigh, he must have shrugged it off during the night or more probably, never properly covered his body with it. His head aches; he cranes his neck a little bit and takes stock of how his body reacts. It’s definitely had a work out, that’s for sure.

“Morning.”

Oliver’s voice is groggy, deeper than usual, and it makes Elio shiver a little. 

“Mmh.”

“Are you okay?”

Elio turns his head towards him, and smiles when he finds Oliver’s face so close to his. 

“Yeah, I think so.”

“I feel like we were a little rough last night.”

Elio pulls up on one elbow, slowly, and realises Oliver is right. His body aches - in a good way, but still. His abdomen feels tender, and he’s sure sitting down is going to make him squirm for the whole day.

He thought Oliver had been too drunk to remember anything the day after.

“I’m surprised you remember.”

“Mmh,” Oliver grumbles back. He pulls up on one arm too, rubs the sleep from one eye. “I told you, it takes a lot to put me out of action that way, baby.”

Elio lets his eyes linger on Oliver’s naked chest. Oliver’s naked belly. Oliver’s naked groin, sadly hidden under the sheet bunched up at his midsection.

Suddenly, he remembers.

“Oh shit! We didn’t mess up my bed last night. And now it’s too late, Mafalda must have been into my room already!”

Oliver gives him a look from under his lashes, in equal parts amused and disbelieving. He grabs Elio’s chin between his index and thumb, and gently nudges him towards himself, until he can kiss him on the mouth.

Elio relents, so much so that Oliver has him on his back down on the bed again in a couple of moments.

“She needs to find out, sooner or later.”

Oliver purrs against Elio’s cheekbone, and Elio shivers again.

When Oliver gets like this any word that comes from his mouth is like a prayer, like an enchantment, one that Elio cannot fight. He’s learnt soon enough and it’s so familiar to him, even only a few weeks into their ‘real’ relationship.

Now, he’s so hyptonised that he feels Oliver’s hand under the sheet, over his hips, and then behind him in between his thighs, and doesn’t react, except for the long tremor that runs through his body.

Oliver shushes him quietly and checks with his fingers, gently, strokes him where he’s most sensitive.

Elio brings his face back to him, and starts a new kiss, moaning very softly in Oliver’s mouth every time a finger stings a little, or pushes in, or - much better - touches exactly where it needs to.

“I’m not - starting anything,” Oliver growls quietly against the side of Elio’s neck, and Elio knows he’s only half-telling the truth. “I just want to check you over and make sure I didn’t hurt you.”

Elio sighs, and closes his eyes a moment.

“Do you remember what you said yesterday?”

His question is abrupt and his heart is beating quite fast all of a sudden. He hopes Oliver can’t feel it, but tough luck, since he’s got his lips right over Elio’s throat.

“I said many things.”

“You know what things I’m talking about.”

He hears Oliver sigh. He sees him pull himself up more, and look down at him, lips stretched in a half smile.

“That I want to marry you?”

“You remember, then.”

Oliver smiles again, looking down at Elio - and yes it’s been only a few weeks, but Elio knows by now his look for ‘you sassy little shit.’

“Yes, I remember. Did you think I was joking?”

Elio shrugs, looks away. “I don’t know.”

“I will have to propose to you properly then, and maybe you’ll believe me.”

Elio feels his lips stretch into the biggest smile he’s smiled in a really long while. He feels like a complete, mushy romantic, and like he’s crazy for wanting this, for letting his head spin at the prospect of being married.

Married to Oliver? What a ridiculous thought. What a beautiful thought.

Oliver could be his, and his only, forever. And he could be Oliver’s. That would make everything perfect.

He doesn’t know what to say, and so for a while he doesn’t say anything.

They start kissing again, and laugh, as quietly as they can, in between kisses, when Elio asks if they’d have their wedding reception in Italy.

“Yes. After we get married in England.”

“Why England?”

“I haven’t been in a while. And we can find a castle.”

“Haha. What for? Look for ghosts?”

“Oh. You’re right. A pub, then.”

“Be serious!”

“Yes. We’ll come back to Italy and have a massive party. We’ll invite the whole town.”

“Mafalda will have a lot to do.”

“Maybe we’ll give her the day off. For our wedding.”

“Ha! She’d never let someone else do the cooking. Not gonna happen!”

“Okay. Well, hopefully she still likes me after today. I love her crostata.”

They kiss some more. Elio really doesn’t feel like getting up. He’d rather stay here all day, sticky with perspiration and humidity, and their own bodies, if it means he gets to keep cuddling with his Oliver, and imagine their wedding, one day.

 

Perhaps an hour later, his phone pings with a text.

 

**From: Marzia**

 

Mon bijou! Are you ok??! You and Oliver were about to make babies last night! Hehe! X

 

He responds.

 

 **From: Elio Bijou**

 

Lol shut up. And that’s not how it works ha. But he said he wants to marry me XXX

 

 

**From: Marzia**

 

WOOOW. He’s gone from you’re too young to chat to I want to marry you?? Haha, Bijou, what have you done to him??

Ps I want to be your bridesmaid :)))))))

 

 

Elio smiles, and looks over, at Oliver who is, maybe, drifting off to sleep again.

He quickly texts:

 

**From: Elio Bijou**

 

Ok. Deal! Have to go, catching up on sleep ;) See you later :)))

 

And burrows into Oliver’s arms, warm and safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More fluff?? Whaaat? :) 
> 
> I love your comments!!


	12. Your First

“Who was your first?”

Oliver blows smoke out of his mouth.

“My first?”

They’re outside, in the garden, hiding behind the brick wall of the patio and sharing a spliff.

“Yeah, your first man. The first man you slept with.”

Oliver gives him a look, like, really??, and smirks, but Elio sticks his chin out and doesn’t relent.

“Why do you want to know?”

Elio takes the spliff from his hand and takes a drag.

“I just want to.”

He doesn’t look at Oliver after that, and Oliver watches him for a long moment before answering.

They’ve never spoken about their past, except that time they kind of touched on it very briefly while they were chatting. He doesn’t know how Elio feels about that.

“His name was Ryan.”

“American?”

“Uh-uh.”

“How old were you?”

Oliver takes the cigarette from him.

“I was twenty.”

Elio nods.

“It wasn’t a serious thing. I told you. It was very brief.”

“A one night stand?”

“Not really. But almost.”

It’s really dark, the night, and around them. Thankfully, it’s chilly enough that it feels nice; especially after a full day of glaring sun.

“How many men did you sleep with?”

Oliver frowns even though he’s sure Elio can’t see him. Elio isn’t looking towards him, anyway.

“What’s going on here?” He asks then, taking a step, so he’s close to Elio, in front of him, and can reach out to nudge his chin up with a hand.

“Nothing.” Elio tries to look away, but Oliver touches his mouth with a thumb, lifts up his head a little more.

“Nothing?”

“Nothing. Can’t I ask my boyfriend about - about past boyfriends?”

“They weren’t ‘boyfriends’. I told you already.”

Elio’s eyes flash with something, and he finally manages to look away. He seems put out, now.

Oliver has to remind himself that Elio is still young, and so free spirited that his mood, sometimes, really can’t be predicted.

He finishes the spliff in two puffs.

“Will you tell me what’s wrong, Baby Deer?”

“Nothing is wrong,” Elio says. He rolls his eyes.

Oliver thinks of teasing him a little, ‘are you jealous of my past hookups - people whose names I don’t even remember? Really?’ But he doesn’t. He doesn’t want Elio to feel like he’s making fun of him. There’s something, here and now.

“Can you tell me what I can do to turn this pout back into a smile, then?”

Elio looks up at him then, and he smiles, a very tiny start of a smile though, but at least it is a start.

“It’s stupid. But,” he begins, looking down at his feet. “I wasn’t your first. And you were. For me. So...”

“..so?”

Elio rolls his eyes again, but Oliver feels that he’s doing that at himself really.

“So, maybe you’ve... maybe you’ve had better.”

Oliver kind of wants to laugh at that in his mind. Maybe he does.

“Not really.”

Elio looks up at him, a look of disbelief, the amber green of his eyes so piercing even in the dark.

Oliver does laugh, then.

“Not really?”

“Yeah. Which really means, no. No, Elio, I haven’t had better than you.”

Elio rolls his eyes again.

“Don’t you dare scoff at this,” Oliver says, stepping closer again and taking Elio’s face into his hands. “It’s true. I haven’t had better than you. I haven’t had anybody so in tune with me, I haven’t had anybody willing to please me as much as you do, I haven’t had anybody who I just enjoy spending time with. I haven’t had anybody who sucks me off so good.”

He ends this tirade with a chuckle, with eyes gleaming with mirth, and he hopes it travels to Elio, because he is really trying to be light, but also saying the truth. Elio’s mouth is the most beautiful, most dexterous thing, Elio’s mouth is addictive, and Oliver thinks he’ll have to kidnap him back to the States just because of that.

So, he receives a punch to his chest for his trouble. Playful, mind; very playful. Elio is laughing, too, although his cheeks have gone scarlet.

“You asshole,” he says, and scowls, although he is still giggling, and he swings another playful punch at Oliver except this time Oliver catches his wrists, hard in his hands, and pulls him to himself just to kiss him. He doesn’t let go, and, smiling against his beautiful boy’s lips, he squeezes the slight bones in his fingers just to feel him trying to buck away.

“I was just answering your question. You’re trying to punch me,” Oliver challenges, teasing.

Elio just kisses him again, in fact, tries to bite him.

“Asshole,” he whispers again.

So Oliver has no choice.

Fast as the light, he hoists Elio over his shoulder, makes him scream, and carries him with purpose inside the house, chuckling, while Elio kicks and laughs so hard that his eyes cry of glee.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :) x


	13. Never

The party in that old house in Moscazzano is loud and full of people. Oliver just assumes all the houses in that tiny town are old, they are all huge and over several floors, they are all echo-y and with a great big backyard garden where people hang lights and light barbecues and play loud music at night because there’s no neighbours who complain.

He sips at his gin and tonic and gives another look around. It’s all really young people - most around Elio’s age. From what Elio has told him, he only knows a few of them - he is friends with Giacomo, the one who threw the party, but the rest all come from different areas around there, some from different regions altogether. There are people from Belgium and someone from Switzerland. Oliver doesn’t know how this Giacomo knows all his guests, in fact, he doesn’t think Giacomo knows them all himself.

Oliver walks back out to the patio with his drink and Elio’s. Elio, who looks beautiful tonight, even more than usual in Oliver’s eyes. He’s wearing a deep green shirt and low slung jeans, and his hair is so perfectly curled, even though he knows Elio hasn’t spent any extra time than usual styling it. His eyelashes are dark and thick and his face is flushed.

Oliver smiles looking at him, and gives him his drink, hand on the small of his back.

“You alright?”

Elio smiles back and, by way of an answer, throws his free arm around Oliver and kisses him, right in front of this girl he was talking to. But who is Oliver to complain? He will definitely kiss back.

When they break the kiss the girl has left and Oliver can’t help it, and kisses Elio some more, behind his ear, on his neck, just to make him giggle and squirm a little.

He is a little tipsy, and Oliver, secretly not so secretly, loves Elio a little tipsy.

“You scared her away,” Elio chuckles and gestures to somewhere with his chin.

“Who was that?”

Elio drinks.

“Her name is Sara. Or Sonia. Anyway. She asked me - Wait. Oh yes. She asked me if I am single, because her friend is interested.”

Elio recounts this innocently enough and Oliver wants to smile.

“Oh really?”

“Really. Guess he got the message.”

Oliver kisses his temple.

“Guess he did.”

At least, that’s what Oliver thought.

An hour later all he does is go to the toilet for a piss, leaves Elio with his friends, and when he comes back this guy is with him instead. He’s tall, but dark-haired and olive-skinned. He speaks Italian and is doing it really close to Elio’s ear.

Oliver marches over, in time to hear Elio say in Italian, ‘no grazie’.

“Let’s go get another drink,” Oliver says, hand on the small of Elio’s back again, choosing the most civil of ways out because it’s a party full of teenagers and he’s not here for a fight and...

“Who are you?”, the guy asks then. Chin out, a little bit of a peacock, for no reason, Oliver thinks.

Before he can get involved, Elio says something to the guy, ‘dai, basta’ and wants to nudge him back with a hand on his chest but the guy’s fucked up sense of timings must think it’s an invitation to grab Elio’s wrist instead and pull him against himself.

Ah, well. Fuck this.

Oliver cannot possibly stand by and let this happen, there isn’t an universe where he will just let this happen, and so in a moment he has grabbed this stupid kid’s shirt collar and has pushed him back, positively snarling.

“Don’t touch him.”

He doesn’t know if it’s because he’s really tall, or because he’s older, or whatever the reason is, but the stupid kid’s eyes go quite wide even though he’s still trying to square up to him.

Honestly, Oliver would give him a good shake, but this is a party, and Elio’s hand is on his chest now, Elio’s voice repeating his name and he needs to listen to him.

He lets go of the stupid kid with a final hard look (the stupid kid scuttles away, so at least there’s that) and turns around to Elio, to his boy, who’s there looking simultaneously small and frightened and flushed and alert.

“Are you alright?”, Oliver asks him, holding his wrist and stroking it slowly as if it’s glass. As if Oliver hasn’t squeezed and held it down with force before - but he’s Oliver, he’s Elio’s lover, he’s allowed. He won’t hurt him.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m sorry,” Elio whispers and looks up at him.

“Why are you apologising, don’t,” Oliver takes Elio into his arms and buries his mouth in the boy’s curls.

He hasn’t noticed he’s the one who’s trembling, not Elio. He’s the one who got furious. Snarling with rage.

He can’t bear to think of Elio harmed. Or scared, or hurt. Threatened.

He can’t, he won’t. For the rest of his life, for as long as Elio will let him be by his side.

“Can we go?” Elio asks, and Oliver kisses his forehead and nods.

They check in with Marzia, because Oliver drove all of them there, but she wants to stay longer and she has a ride home anyway, and she thinks they just want to go back and have sex so she doesn’t ask too many questions.

In the car, he looks ahead, at the dark road. Elio fiddles with the radio, gets bored; finally stops when he finds an acceptable song for the trip back.

From the corner of his eye Oliver can see him smile.

“Do you want to talk?”

Oliver just takes one breath.

“That guy is never going to go near you, ever again.”

“Okay.” Elio says. His hands strokes up Oliver’s arm slowly. “He was a dick.”

“Yeah, all the same.”

Elio still strokes his arm, and Oliver knows it’s his way of trying to calm him down, of telling him to stop thinking about what happened. And he wants to. He does.

They stop by a clearing near the house where people sometimes go to be alone. The night is quiet.

Elio kisses his cheek, and burrows closer to him even though they’re on separate seats.

“I love you,” he says. He kisses Oliver, and Oliver manages to smile against his mouth. “I love you,” Elio repeats.

And until Oliver can be by Elio’s side for the rest of their lives, that will have to be enough.

  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank for your comments! So glad you like this story! Please keep leaving comments ;)


	14. Never - after

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little snippet that follows the previous chapter.

(They decide to go home but actually Elio doesn’t let them. He takes Oliver’s hand in his and kisses his palm, and then opens it with his index and middle finger out and puts them in his mouth.

He moves up and down on it, slowly, sucking and licking the fingers in warmth and wet, watching Oliver all the while, keeping his eyes on him with a confidence he’s only begun to have lately. Oliver is mesmerised and speechless and his throat is dry. Elio continues and sucks the long fingers inside his mouth, slides them up and down his soft tongue, a little faster now and then slow, slow again. When he sees Oliver’s eyes burn up then he sucks one last time, the fingers deep in his mouth, and then pulls them out, and gives a little bite to the pads. Oliver is still speechless but his face is afire.

Elio puts his hand away and reaches to open Oliver’s trousers, pulls down his zip and pulls him out of the underwear and all Oliver does in his speechless state is scoot back a little to give him more room.

Elio bends over and takes him in his mouth, like he just did with his fingers and slides, up and down, up, and down, slowly and thoroughly, going down down to his belly until Oliver is deep in his throat and Elio has to remember to breathe through his nose, forget about your gag reflex, that’s it, breathe and it will feel so good for him.

He sucks and sucks and soon he starts giving little quiet moans as he moves up and down, while Oliver absolutely does nothing, just watches him and Elio thinks it would be so sexy if Oliver filmed him, he wants Oliver to have this when he goes back to the States, Elio blowing him or Elio naked, no detail missing so he can remember, so he can’t fucking forget him.

Oliver’s hips buck a little now and Elio knows he’s close, he keeps sucking but he feels Oliver’s hand in his hair and he lets Oliver hold him down. He’s gentle and Elio knows he could easily move away if he wanted to, but he doesn’t, he wants everything and he wants it in his mouth.

Oliver comes, hand in Elio’s hair and hips up but Elio doesn’t forget to breathe.

He’s a little light headed after when he pulls himself up and he closes his eyes for a moment, but he can feel Oliver watching him, Oliver’s thumb gently cleaning the corner of his mouth and watching him still, and he wonders how he looks like. He must look flushed and slutty but he’s totally okay with it.

He finally opens his eyes properly and Oliver is still staring at him, and then he comes closer to kiss him and kisses him deeply, holding him by the nape, and Elio knows Oliver can taste himself in his mouth and Elio is happy about it, he belongs to Oliver and he wants Oliver to never, ever forget it.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ....leave me a comment? ;)


	15. Don’t let me think

A good time always goes by so fast, and so does Oliver’s time in Crema.

It’s already mid August, and while time has gone quickly, the days seemed to stretch indefinitely, all warm sun and food and swimming, smoking, biking. Afternoon lovemaking.

One evening, Oliver is sitting in his room, on his phone, tapping in concentration. Elio hides his face in his nape from behind and says, ‘stop working.’

“I know. I’m sorry. Head sent the fall schedules - I need to make my amends now, or I will have to stick with them.”

Oliver will teach at Columbia starting September, and he needs to make sure he has enough time carved out for his book. And maybe the next.

Elio knows.

He goes to lie on the bed, watches Oliver for a little bit and then gets on his phone too - texts a few friends, checks Facebook and decides to delete it off his iPhone. People are irritating on it, and they will be even more irritating once Oliver leaves. It’s not worth it.

Oliver joins him a few minutes after that. He crawls onto the bed and flops down, with a sigh and a groan, in a way that makes Elio laugh.

“That annoying?”

Oliver turns towards him, smiles, tight lipped. “Take your clothes off, baby?”

Elio smiles too, and slowly, takes off his shirt, and then his shorts and underwear in one go. While Oliver watches.

“Will this distract you enough?”, Elio asks, his voice comes out husky.

“Oh, yeah. This is exactly what I need.”

Oliver takes him into his arms, and his hand on the small of Elio’s back pushes the boy’s nude body fully against himself as they lay on the bed.

Elio loves being naked with clothed Oliver. He feels like a prize, like a gift, in a way that makes him blush but also makes his chest swell with pride.

Who’d have known that this would happen to him, this summer.

They kiss deeply for a few minutes. Smile on other’s lips. The melancholy is tearing at the corners of Elio’s heart, but he’s also so, so happy.

“Do you know what the cliché would be,” Elio murmurs.

“What would it be?”

“It would be, you having to leave, and me having to stay behind, sad, and pregnant with your child.”

Despite everything, that makes Oliver laugh.

“That would be the cliché, wouldn’t it.”

“Uh-uh,” Elio nods.

They stare into each other’s eyes.

“Well. Our baby would be so beautiful.” Oliver murmurs as well, cheeks pinched in amusement - and Elio laughs with him. “He would have your eyes and your curls.”

“And your mouth and your nose. And he’d be blond.”

Oliver nods, eyes glittering. “Okay.”

Elio nods back. But then, it fades. They just look at each other.

“I didn’t think this would happen to me, Kiddo,” Oliver starts. His thumb strokes softly over Elio’s cheekbone, down to his lips and chin. “To feel so much.”

“I knew it would happen for me, the moment I started speaking to you on that chat,” Elio says instead.

“Oh really?”. Oliver’s thumb slides down. Flicks Elio’s nipple and chides him gently. “You fortune teller.”

“No, it’s true!” Elio protests with a laugh. “Also. Fuck. Don’t do that. Won’t be able to continue the conversation if you do.”

Oliver’s smile is a promise.

“What? This?” He reaches down, and takes the nipple into his mouth, and sucks.

“Fuck.”

“Want me to stop?”

“No. No. Don’t stop. Don’t let me think...”

And Oliver’s mouth kisses and sucks, Elio’s chest and down his body, and he certainly doesn’t let him think, or breathe. Wills time to stop for now, wills this moment to last forever.


	16. Trust me

**From: Baby Deer**

 

Hey saw you took the car where did you go?

 

 

**From: Oliver <3**

 

Just in Crema, sorting out something real quick. Xoxo

 

 

 **From: Baby Deer**

 

Oh. Ok...

 

**From: Baby Deer**

 

It’s just that I tried to call you but u didn’t pick up

 

 

**From: Oliver <3**

 

I know baby, I’m sorry. I was driving. I won’t be long I promise. Want me to bring you anything back from town? Xoxo

 

 

 **From: Baby Deer**

 

No it’s fine.

 

 

**From: Oliver <3**

 

Ok. If you’re sure. I won’t be long. Maybe about 1 hour. I love you. Xoxo

 

 

**From: Baby Deer**

 

Ok. love u too

 

 

 

 

Elio waits on the bench out in the patio for Oliver to come back. He knows he’ll hear the car pull in on the gravel, and so he sits there, scrolling nonsense on his phone just to pass the time.

He tells himself off for being so needy and so attached. It’s not like Oliver has to be glued to him all day long, right? They need to have their own space. It’s fine.

Even if Oliver is leaving in five days, and the clock is ticking on the time they have left to spend together.

 

When Oliver appears, finally, he goes through the patio because he knows. He bends to kiss Elio on his curls, and Elio blinks up at him, a little pouty, although he’s trying to fight it. 

“What did you do?”

“I had to sort out something. For my book.”

“Is it sorted now?” 

“Yeah. Yes it is.” 

Elio sighs, and looks away. It’s not that he wants Oliver by his side all the time. It’s not that he wants to always go where he goes. But this sounds like something secret, and he’s curious as hell, and he’s a little sad that Oliver isn’t sharing, with him, of all people. Elio doesn’t have secrets with him.

“Hey,” Oliver takes Elio’s hand in his, and brings it to his mouth, kisses his palm. “You need to trust me, Baby Deer.”

Elio feels his face go all warm, because he knows Oliver is right.

But It’s not that he doesn’t trust him. Just, Elio feels so jealous, so so so jealous, if he thinks of Oliver without him, Oliver with other people. Oliver living a reality Elio knows nothing about.

Even just when he takes the car, and drives to Crema all alone, without him. 

“I do trust you,” Elio promises. To Oliver, and to himself. He stands up, and throws his arms around Oliver’s neck. “I’m sorry.I just. I wanted to be with you.”

Oliver kisses his cheek.

“It’ll be worth it, I promise,” he murmurs against Elio’s temple. And before Elio can ask more questions: “so, what do you wanna do? Feel like going for a swim? I think Giacomo said they’d be ai Riflessi this afternoon if you wanted to-“

“Can we go just me and you?”

Elio looks Oliver in the eye. Elio’s eyes are shimmering. “I just want you.” 

“Of course. Of course, Baby Deer.” 

They go for a swim to a smaller pond, the one that Elio’s friends always forget. They hug in the water, and kiss. They watch the sunset.

They hold each other until it’s too cold to be in the water and their hands get crinkly. Then Oliver kisses Elio’s ear, which makes him laugh. And they leave, and walk back to the house, huddled together against the chill of the night.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2 chapters today... :)
> 
> P.s. I have put down 19 as the number of chapters for now, because Oliver will have to go back unfortunately. But I can continue this if there is interest - and the boys still need to get married... don’t they? ;)


	17. Morning

It’s not a ring, of course, because Elio is still too young, and Oliver doesn’t want to burden him with something on his finger just yet.

It’s a bracelet, silver, a single thin strand that embraces the wrist and can go with the others that Elio likes to wear. Nothing too loud or too flashy, but there, evident, existing to be touched, to remember their promise any time Elio wants.

The two halves of the strand are held together by two small silver discs with engraved initials, linked together. OE.

Oliver wakes Elio up with it on their third to last morning together.

He’d wanted to wait until the last day, but couldn’t. And Elio looks so beautiful this morning, all flushed cheeks and red lips - he always looks even more gorgeous after they’ve made love - that Oliver just has to do it.

He wakes him up with kisses and the smell of the fresh coffee he’s brought up to their room. He giggles watching Elio try to make sense of the world, bat his eyelashes when his eyes are still half closed. He looks exhausted still and Oliver loves him for it.

“Elio. I wanted to give you something.”

Elio frowns and looks at him like, what’s the occasion? But of course he’s suddenly awake and curious and opening the little box with hands that tremble a little.

“Oliver?”

He picks the bracelet out of the box delicately and looks at Oliver, and his eyes are suddenly red.

“Do you like it?” Oliver asks, nervous.

“Of course- of course, Oliver, I - what is this for?” Elio is still holding the bracelet in his hands, staring at it, looking at Oliver in disbelief.

“This is my promise to you.”

Oliver is surprised at how firm his voice manages to be. He takes the bracelet gently from Elio, and wraps it around his wrist, fastens it securely with the clasp. “I promise that I love you, and I want to be with you. And it’s true, that one day, I would like to marry you.”

“Oliver...” Elio’s voice is just a whisper.

“What do you think?”

Oliver waits, and Elio smiles, though his eyes are still red.

“Are you, oh my god. How can you ask me what I think? I’m, Oliver, fuck. I’m, you’re crazy. I’m so happy.”

Elio is still trembling and he throws his arms around Oliver’s neck, and hugs him tight to himself. Oliver laughs, of relief.

“Is this what you were doing the other day in Crema??”

Oliver chuckles, awkward.

“Yeah. For such a tiny town in the middle of August, il signor Gianni really wanted to make me happy, I have to say.”

Elio giggles too.

“Oh god. I hate you,” he growls softly and then he kisses Oliver, so passionate that the kiss deepens instantly and Oliver hardly has time for a breath.

“Thought you loved me?”

Elio bites his lower lip. His eyes are wet.

“I do. Fuck. I love you, Oliver. And I want to marry you.”

It still feels crazy and surreal to hear and to say, but Oliver does believe it. It’s become the thing he wants most, now. He can’t wait until he can look forward to that day.

“But listen,” he starts, nudging Elio’s face up with a finger under his chin to make sure he’s looking into his eyes. “There’s something else in my promise, too.”

Elio’s eyes blink.

“You should never feel burdened. Or weighed down, or held back. By what is on your wrist. If anything changes, ever... if there is ever anything you want to tell me, or anything you need, anything you want to do... you can tell me. Understand?”

Elio frowns, but he’s smiling. “I’m not...”

“Say you understand,” Oliver insists. His thumb strokes Elio’s lower lip. “I want you to be with me. But I want you to be free.”

Oliver needs Elio to understand, because Elio is only seventeen, and Oliver is not going to chain him down, for any reason. It should be Elio’s choice, every time.

“Understood,” Elio rolls his eyes, but Oliver knows he’s teasing him. “You dork. I would have logged off already, if I was bored,” Elio says, and smiles, with shimmering eyes, when Oliver laughs at his throwback to one of their first online chats.

They kiss then, for long minutes. Elio keeps looking at the bracelet glittering on his wrist, surrounded by all his trinkets, leather bands, those make a wish wristlets that break when the fabric is worn out.

Oliver’s gift is the best, most treasured thing he’s ever been given.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think the bracelet would look something like this: https://www.google.co.uk/shopping/product/10359651927115077530/image?q=bracelet+with+2+initials&client=safari&hl=en-gb&prmd=sivn&biw=375&bih=553&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwispejU3NXcAhXELFAKHdJbAB8QnUAI2AE&prds=cid:10359651927115077530,paur:ClkAsKraX6UgeDBsiSryYarC8cGq8lfRT2gEACqfj5smvhyDEfaTDspBrumGGeLhSD3tXRjUXmvhOSL4jt9Pvqp1NNOZYCriO5CSMi1Hc86uer35XDnWdREbqxIZAFPVH705eg_xEIUPdhXnqljHTwS_z_d4yA,sgro:iv,mvi:0
> 
> Sorry for the long link!!! 
> 
> And the line about Elio being exhausted is a reference to what Timothee said in the CMBYN commentary, when Elio wakes up and finds the shirt with the note from Oliver: “I like that I look so exhausted here.” (Referring to Elio being tired because they’ve had sex all night and he hasn’t slept ;) )


	18. Chapter 18

“I don’t really feel like going back to school.”

Elio looks ahead, at the lake, and the water, flat and calm in the evening.

Sitting next to him by the lake shore, Marzia tilts her head.

“You always liked school, Bijou.”

“I know,” Elio huffs. That was centuries ago. “It’s boring now. I wish we could go to university already.”

Marzia nods. Elio can feel her, watching him from the corner of one eye. She looks very pretty, tonight, in her scarlet, frilly top.

“Where would you go, if you could go this year?” She plucks at a strand of grass on the ground.

“New York City.”

“With Oliver?”

“Yeah.”

It’s quiet for a while. The sun is setting now, half way through drowning on the horizon. Elio doesn’t say anything, and Marzia waits, for a few long moments. 

“Don’t be sad, Elio,” Marzia says. But Elio doesn’t look at her. “I mean, I know you’re sad. But you’ll talk every day. And I’m sure he’ll come back soon. Maybe you can go visit him?”

Elio sighs, nods. Still looks ahead.

“Yeah. Maybe I can.”

Soon it gets too dark to still sit by the lake, and so they walk back to the house. Elio is still quiet. Marzia holds his hand, and he’s grateful.

 

 

 

“Well, Oliver. What can I say, it’s been a pleasure. I wish you could stay longer.”

Sammy smiles, as he raises his wine glass in a polite cheer to Oliver. Oliver smiles back - he loves Sammy. He’s been so welcoming.

“I wish that too, Professor.Very much. But work beckons.”

Elio, sitting by him at the table, watches him as he has a drink of his wine, follows the movement of his throat as he swallows. He can’t believe that, in only a couple of days or so, Oliver won’t be here. Having dinner with them, drinking wine with his dad.

“I’m quite excited for Bergamo, though,” Oliver says, and looks at Elio. It’s like he’s saying, don’t be sad. We still have this. We still have this day.

They’ll be going to Bergamo in the morning, with the excuse of Oliver having a final meeting with his translator, and then he’ll fly from Milan. There’s the constant thought - that this is the last evening of Oliver’s time at the villa; but Elio is looking forward to a whole day with him. Alone.

“You’ll have fun,” Annella promises, with her elegant, warm voice. Elio looks at her and for a moment, he wonders if she’s seen the bracelet on his wrist. For a moment, he really wants to tell her. He wants her to know.

“And maybe, next time you guys could come and visit me instead?” Oliver’s voice is kind of tentative, his tone open to interpretations, but he’s looking straight at Elio.

“Oh, well. Oliver. I think my time in the Big Apple might be done, for now... much easier to be lazy and research here, in the confort of my own old house,” Sammy comments with a laugh.

Annella looks at Elio, then.

“I think Elio should go. What do you think, amore? Perhaps you should go and visit Oliver, and I’ll come say hi when I convince your pigro of a dad to come.” She says this with mirth and playfulness, and Elio can absolutely see, from a very great distance, how his dad’s eyes glint at Annella’s proposal.

Elio’s heart is beating really fast.

“I would love to have Elio with me for a while.” Oliver’s voice is so firm, and Elio is stupefied. Of course his parents know, but still - this is them, talking about the future. The near future, at that. Oliver wants him in his world. 

Elio smiles, then. Sammy grins, and goes back to his wine, taking a sip, and looking pleased.

“Maybe you could come for a few days over Christmas?” Oliver asks, but of course it’s already settled. Elio feels an urgent, overwhelming, absolute need to kiss him, right there and then, but instead he just blushes furiously instead.

For a moment, he forgets that he’s sad.

After dinner, he goes upstairs to wait for Oliver, as he has one last limoncello with Sammy outside in the balcony. When Oliver joins him, in bed, his lips taste of sugar and lemon.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eeek! I’m having a few strange days. I hope you liked this chapter. Thank you so much for your support, as always! I read all of your comments and each of them makes me SO.HAPPY. Xx


	19. Still has to go

The third round of the night, and Elio still wants more, wants more. The feeling of Oliver on top of him; the sweat and the air, hot around them. Nothing makes him want to stop.

He holds onto Oliver’s shoulders like they’re grappling, fingers stuck deep into his skin but careful not to leave signs. Remember when Oliver was gentle and careful? No more. Elio gets hard thrusts, hard breaths against his throat and chest. Oliver lets go and Elio loves it, loves this but he also know why this is how it is.

Heartbreak makes you lose your mind and get desperate and this is the fucking of a desperate man. Two desperate men.

 

The next time, it’s slower, with Elio on top.

They’ve talked about roles (‘ew, roles?’ Elio didn’t like it, this is not a football game) and who tops and who bottoms but (and again, Elio scrunched up his face, he didn’t like those labels)the truth is, Elio loves having Oliver in him. ‘Keep going,’ he’s said when his lover started round number four. ‘I’ll let you put as many fingers as you want inside me.’

So Elio is on top now but still Oliver is inside him, and Elio makes waves with his hips and watches Oliver’s face as he moves.

“You’re so amazing,” Oliver tells him, with a husky voice, lulled by Elio’s push-pull, push-pull. Elio smiles and bends down to kiss him, and laughs when Oliver gives a kick with his hips because he wants him to keep going.

They will both feel this tomorrow, in their legs and their bellies and their cocks, but they don’t care. At all.

After Oliver comes inside Elio, it takes a couple of minutes for the older man to recover and then he, in a violent, fast movement, flips them over so Elio is on his back, and goes down on him. One hand, and mouth on his sex, one hand stroking inside where he himself has just been.

Elio’s head swims, and he thinks, how am I supposed to give this up? How am I supposed to find any better?

 

You’ve ruined me for everyone, Oliver.

 

 

The day in Bergamo has both gone fast, and lingered.

They’ve spent most of it in bed, sure, fucking and making love.

But they’ve also strolled around, at some point, hands interlinked. Oliver has kissed Elio against a wall. They’ve shared ice cream. (In fact, that’s maybe when it started; when they had to go back to their hotel. Pistacchio ice cream, licked from one mouth to the other.)

The hotel is nice (Samuel booked it) and they can have champagne, and Oliver orders is along with their room service, but Elio feels like it’s a celebration, and it’s not. The man he’s in love with is leaving tomorrow. What’s there to celebrate?

“Don’t think like that,” Oliver says quietly. His eyes are so blue. “I want to celebrate meeting you. Finding you. Look where we are?”

Elio smiles a little, and strokes the bracelet on his arm. He knows Oliver is right. But still.

So, by the time they’re done, ready to sleep, worn out; he hides his face into Oliver’s shoulder, bed sheet covering their naked bodies snug into each other. He thinks that maybe there is a way to freeze this moment. Or maybe to stop his brain from thinking. Maybe, if he goes to sleep, he’ll wake up and tomorrow will have changed. The love of his life will stay, he won’t have to say goodbye at the train station. It will be a different reality. It could happen.

In the dark, Oliver kisses his forehead, his nose, his cheekbone. He tells him, I love you. I love you. I love you. Until Elio says it back, voice faint, eyelashes fluttering against sleep and sadness.

The next day of course nothing has changed. They still need to get dressed, get ready, go to the station. Of course they have sex one last time. Of course - Oliver wouldn’t, not when Elio is upset, but Elio has to. He has to have this.

Because they can’t kiss properly at the station anyway, not like he’d want, and so he kisses Oliver for as long as he needs to in their hotel room. He even manages to laugh while they have breakfast. He throws pieces of bread at Oliver, and Oliver tickles him until he’s rolling on the mattress trying to get away.

“Look? Now you’ve got crumbs everywhere!” Oliver says and laughs, too.

But yes, they still have to go to the station. Goodbye still has to be said.

Elio holds onto Oliver for as long as he can, face buried into his shoulder. Until the voice on the loudspeaker announces the train.

The moment Oliver leaves hurts, of course. Just like Elio expected. Maybe more.

He’d texted Annella to see if she could pick him up, and she’s outside when Elio leaves. She smiles at him; strokes his hair.

“December will be here before we know it,” she says as she drives, as Elio looks outside the car window, tears in his eyes. “You’ll see each other soon.”

They’ll see each other soon.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who’s followed this story. I hope you liked it!
> 
> Yes I know, it’s sad that Oliver is leaving - but they’ll keep in touch! And they will see each other again. 
> 
> THANK YOU for all your comments and love. Love you right back!! Xx

**Author's Note:**

> Lovely readers of When You Meet A Stranger! This is for you.
> 
> I’m not sure how many chapters this will be, it won’t be too long, but I hope you like it anyway. 
> 
> Please leave a comment if you do. ;) xx


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